


One Year Later

by Andian



Category: ParaNorman (2012)
Genre: Gen, Post-Canon, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-17
Updated: 2014-12-17
Packaged: 2018-03-01 21:46:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2788898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Andian/pseuds/Andian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A lot can change during one year. Especially when your starting point is saving your home town from a witch curse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	One Year Later

**Author's Note:**

  * For [HopefulNebula](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HopefulNebula/gifts).



It changes. Naturally it does. He is not that crazy kid who thinks he can talk to dead people anymore. He is that crazy kid who really can talk to dead people.

Also he kind of saved the town and everybody in it, so people are sort of giving him some credit for that. The names on his locker stop. There are people who want to sit with him -in class, during lunch- have him on their team during sports -a terrible idea for everybody involved- and hang out after school which he declines in what he hopes is a polite way.

It's nice for almost two days. Then Norman realizes that he is not a fan of attention.

They clash. All of them horribly and terribly with the silence and order he had forced into his life. He hadn't realized before how much he had depended on only a few people being around to deal with the amount of talking he does to people who are not longer actually people. Well, in the living aspect. He wouldn't want to be rude to anybody. 

But point is that he stops talking to the ghosts around town or at least does it a lot less often since suddenly there seem to always be people around watching him. He had thought it would be easier if people knew -he hadn't actually, his family's reaction had stopped him from imaging anything like that- and he could just talk without the fear of being seen as weird but it actually doesn't.   
He notices the looks even more now than he did before. Gaping, wondering. Calculating.

It's curiosity at first, at least he likes to think it is. It's honest wonder and surprise but the thing is that it doesn't stick.  
Three month later the city has calmed down and Norman is glad at first before he notices the looks and how they have changed again.

Fear is a thing Norman is too familiar with and he does not enjoy catching a glimpse of it whenever people see him. 

Naturally it makes sense. When the euphoria of having survived, first a zombie attack, then a witch threatening to destroy everything, what is left is somebody who isn't quite the same as the rest.

He sits in the kitchen and stares into his cereal bowl. “Are you okay, sweetie?” his mother asks and stops for a moment in front of him to give him a searching look. He opens his mouth to tell her that it's happening again, that people are scared of him, that he sees wary looks. That he woke up choking back a scream last night, the feeling of the rope around his neck an inescapable phantom touch throughout the whole day. 

But his mother looks at him hopeful and he closes his mouth and says no such thing, just nods. She had been happy those past few months. So happy for him to finally be accepted, liked even and she had just nodded with a smile one morning as his father had read the paper, casually remarking how glad he was that he was finally acting like a normal boy.

He can't help resenting his father a bit for it. There is Miss Gardner from next door who wears clothes that were green once but are now red -so red, so much red, it's sometimes so hard to look at her- and tells him about the day her son would finally come home. There is Ella who is six and would always be six and who asks him if he'd like to go play in the woods, pointing somewhere at the ever stretching rows of suburban houses. There is First Sergeant Hall who doesn't say anything, who just stares blankly into thin air and asked Norman once if they had won. Norman isn't sure what exactly, so he had just nodded but the Sergeant hadn't looked at him anymore at this point.

Point is, he isn't normal. Hasn't been before, isn't now, doesn't actually want to try and change that anymore. Aggie had changed because she had been afraid and Norman won't let his fear of being different determine who he is anymore.

That's what he tries at least. It's five months after that night and he is standing in a burnt-out building, somewhere a bit out of town and tries not run.  
“Is she here?” the voice of the man is urgent, deep and dark. Norman looks straight ahead, his hand clenched into fists. “She isn't,” he says and the woman in front of him -burnt clothes, burnt hair, burnt everything- stops shaking her head frantically with eyes full of of fear.  
He goes home that night, lying in his bed, staring at the ceiling and tries to stop shaking. His grandmother sits next to him and doesn't ask what is wrong and he is thankful for that, thankful for her just being there. He is more quiet during the next weeks and it's way too easy to slick back into to keeping his distance from everybody he realizes.

Eight months in people finally stopped trying to get him on his sport team which is a start. “You okay there, dork?” he hears one morning and he expects it to be his mother, is surprised when it's Courtney's voice. He looks up and the look in her eyes reminds him so much of their mother that he looks away again. He'd like to tell her, he realizes how the looks have changed again. How he is not quite sure to what. Neil has gotten a new dog though and they had spent their last weekends running around the forest with him so he tells her that instead. He had also told Sheriff Hooper where her father had hidden the recipe for his chocolate cookies. She had looked at him very quietly for a long moment before she had thanked him, her voice chocked up. He tells her about that too and Courtney smiles before complaining about the upcoming game against Daleridge High and how their volleyball team better stop sucking so much and Norman nods and listens.

There are still the dreams though and there is still the fact that some people avoid his eyes but at least school is fine.

There is a new kid in his class at one point, moved here from somewhere from the West Coast and lives two houses down the street and he smiles briefly at Norman when they walk to school together. He shoots him a weird look when he stops to greet Mrs. Hartman and then slowly starts walking faster and faster while Norman says hello to the other ghosts. At school he sees him talking to one his classmates, gesturing wildly and pointing in a rather unsubtle way at him.

He isn't sure what his classmate answers, only that he doesn't see the new kid at the next day or any day afterward on his way to school anymore. He acts normal enough though towards him when they are in school though so Norman supposes that it is okay. He can live with that, Neil as a close friend, the rest of the school at least not mocking or laughing anymore. He is in school one morning, getting a book out of his locker and somebody greets him, casually as they walk by and without thinking Norman greets back.

It's nothing, not even a real conversation but it was the kind of nothing devoid of any looks, of any barely concealed ulterior motives, of awe mixed with fear.  
It's normal. And Norman suddenly realized that there is a kind of normality he actually does want. He and Neil meet up with some other kids for a movie after school and the sun is close to setting when he comes home that day.

“You're okay, pal?” his father, putting down his tools for a moment while he tries to fix the faucet for the third time this month. “You're back later than usual.” “We went to see a movie.” Norman says while opening the fridge. “That's nice.” his father says, before turning to the faucet again. “One of those zombie movies again?” he asks and Norman smiles “The worst. There was blood everywhere.” There is a sound and it takes Norman a moment to realize that his father is laughing. “You'd think you'd had enough of zombies after you've actually seen a real one,” and Norman laughs too and takes his sandwich into to living room. 

He sits on the floor like usual, switches on the television and his father follows him shortly afterward, throwing him a look as he sits down and Norman nods briefly at him to signal that he isn't sitting in grandma. One year later and this hasn't changed and suddenly Norman is happy.

It's hard. Naturally it is. But still. It is good.


End file.
